When the future comes for me
by PrincessOfTheDarknessAndDrarry
Summary: This is basically based on something I read, I had a dream after reading it and this is what happened. It's basically me in the future, listening to the radio and hearing the three words I never expected to hear about one of my idols. Not real!


When the future comes for me.

Summary: This is basically based on something I read, I had a dream after reading it and this is what happened. It's basically me in the future, listening to the radio and hearing the three words I never expected to hear about one of my idols. This is obviously not real, reason it being a fanfic and the only reason it is under the Harry Potter category is because it's basically about the impact of the Harry Potter series on a person. So no reviews stating that this isn't a HP fanfic or that I am stupid to think that what happens in this fanfic is real, even though I know it isn't. Thank you for reading, you may continue.

I am in the car, from what I can tell, I'm driving home, there are three kids in the back fighting among each other and a teenager sitting next to me, a soccer ball in his lap sighing.

'Harry, you'll win the next game, stop complaining,' I say looking towards the teenager, said black haired youth looks at me and rolls his eyes (must get it from me) and goes back to sulking silently.

I pull up at a two story house, where I see another car there, the kids immediately jump out and run into the house, one of the boys tripping the other.

'William! Don't trip your brother!' I shout, walking hurriedly to the boy struggling to get up in the grass, who looks exactly like the boy who tripped him.

'Are you alright Alexander?' I asked.

The boy just shrugs and runs into the house chasing after his brother and sister.

Harry walks past me and into the house, leaving his soccer ball in the car.

I go to grab the soccer ball and am about to turn the radio off when something catches my attention.

"And in later news, Harry Potter actor Daniel Radcliffe, has passed away today at age 49...'

I don't listen to the rest and walk into the house with the soccer ball in my hands and tears in my eyes.

I enter the house to see the kids jumping on the couch (not that I even care at that point) and Harry who is looking in the fridge.

'Mum, have we got any m-..mum? What's wrong?' asked the teen, worry on his face.

I smile softly at him and shake my head.

'Nothing, just...it's nothing too important.'

Harry nods and then suddenly realizes that three kids are jumping on the expensive lounge-room couch.

'LILLITH, WILLIAM, ALEXANDER OF THE COUCH!'

As Harry walks away in the lounge-room, I sink into a chair at the dinning room table and place my head in my hands, sighing, I stand up and walk to the bookshelf where all my old books and movies are.

I pick up the first movie on the shelf.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

(***)

There's going to come a day when we've all grown up, had a career, maybe got married and had children, when we're all going about our daily routine. Maybe you're driving to work with the car radio on, or you're making dinner with the TV on in the lounge. Life as usual, and then we hear a name. It's the name of the person you had a blog dedicated to when you were sixteen. The person you had posters of up on your bedroom wall, or as your desktop background. That person of that show you used to watch every week, as soon as it came out, or that band you used to love. The person from the, cast of a movie that changed your life, or the character who you scrolled through page after page of fanfiction of. You haven't heard that name in a long time, and it brings everything back. And then the name is followed by three words you thought you'd never hear. Has Passed Away. And then you put down your potato peeler and lean against your kitchen bench, or you pull over to the side of the road, and tears are streaming down your face. And all over the world there are people who used to be like you, with tears marking their cheeks and sobs forcing their way out of their throat, because they remember. Because fandoms never really die out. We never really move on. We never really forget.

~.


End file.
